


Marked by Time

by Mufasa108



Category: Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-24 07:55:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9712316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mufasa108/pseuds/Mufasa108
Summary: A series of one-shots/short stories chapters all based in the same AU where people live a certain number of lives based on a complex mark on their skin, which fades slightly with every life they've lived.Loosely based on a prompt from Promptorium."Everyone carries a mark that tells the number of lives they have lived. Write about a character who hides the fact that their mark is an infinity symbol."





	1. Prologue

The Girl was a new soul. Fresh and young and as of yet inexperienced with the harshness of the universe. She had as of yet not lived a single full life, still in the youthful bliss of those first years, and according to her mark she was to live many more lives. The complex tick marks on her skin ever so slowly counting down with each new life until she was no more. Until she drifted off, no longer tethered to an earthly body.

When she was born the first time the Seer had told her that her mark was dense, containing a million lives that drifted off into the distance, eventually ending, but not for a very long time.

“Not until you’ve found a love eternal. One that will span the furthest reaches of the universe and bind you so completely to another that no matter how far fate may cast you apart, you will always be able to find each other.”

“When will I meet them?” The Girl asked, she was a romantic soul, that was the first thing the Seer had told her when she’d walked into her cluttered and damp smelling tent, and the idea of a never ending love was fulfilling all the deepest dreams of The Girl's soul.

“Soon,” the Seer responded, her finger still pressed tightly to the swirling black mass of lines and shapes that tattooed The Girl's smooth inner forearm near her elbow. “I see you living throughout time, forward and backward, in every which place. Always full of love and joy. Sometimes alone, but with your love more often than not."

The Seer paused, her hand stretching to cover the entirety of the mark, a frown deepening her wrinkles as images of such sorrow danced through her mind.

"But tread carefully child, the man you are bonded to has a never ending mark, a black hole, stretching from the beginnings of time to the end of it. He is bitter, and harsh. Alone for an eon. Loving with his heart, but never his soul, until those moments when fortune causes you two to collide. You will eventually leave him too. And he will suffer immensely, his soul never knowing if fate will bring you together again.”

“And will we know?” The Girl inquired, looking deeply into the Seer's milky white eyes. “When we meet will we know?”

“You will feel a pull in your heart,” the old woman smiled, reaching forward and laying her wrinkled hand flat over The Girls chest. “It may be subtle at times, but you must always follow it, and remind the man to do the same, for he will not be as strong as you. Yet you will never remember each other, bearing the same faces for all of eternity, yet always having the blessing of starting a new life, a new love.”

“And will I remember any of this? Any of what you told me?” The Girl asked, her hand closing anxiously over the Seer’s, trying to soak up as much of her knowledge as possible.

“No my child, there is no way for this information to be imparted onto you and your future lives. The only thing I can leave you with is your name. The name you will bare for the rest of time.” The old woman sat, gazing unseeingly at The Girl's face until a slow smile slipped over her face.

“Thy Sweetness,” the seer smiled, her free hand reaching up to cup The Girl's jaw, her fingertips brushing along The Girls flaming curls. “Demelza.”

The Girl smiled, the sound of the name taking hold of her and rooting deep within, never to be forgotten or lost.

“And the man?” Demelza asked, laying her hand over the Seer’s, her eyes closing and a tear slipping free as the name she was just given revealed to her who she was really meant to be. “I know I will not remember in my next life, but what of his name?”

The Seer simply laughed in response, a cackling sound that was full of all the wisdom of time. “Oh my child, his name is fitting, for he is head strong and will always be the captor of your heart, no matter how much your mind may protest at times. He is your Heartland. Your Ross.”


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time Ross and Demelza meet in Demelza's consecutive lives - lets just say it's her third life - and Ross is near broken with all the added weight of the sorrows of thousands upon thousands of lives all stacked on top of each other.
> 
> Not really set in any particular time, just sort of an introduction to the world

“I can see the Gods have cursed you,” the Seer sneered as Ross entered the tent, bringing with him an air of heavy gloom. “You are the one who lives eternal, never able to remember your past or see your future, yet always carrying the burden of the lives before.”

“How many lives have I lived so far?” Ross asked simply, his dark eyes dull with unseen sorrow that even he did not understand.

“Hard to say,” the Seer replied, scratching his chin in thought, his craggy finger nails rasping over the white stubble that grew there. He stared at Ross with his milky eyes, seeing things in him that Ross could never be able to see in himself. “Enough for you to grow tired of living I see.”

“Is there a way –“ Ross began, but found he could not finish the question. He was a proud man, and the idea that life, all lives, had become too much for him to bare was embarrassing. Yet he suspected that his soul couldn’t take too much more heartache and loneliness. He felt weary, tired beyond belief.

“Is there a way for it to end?” the Seer asked for Ross. “There are several ways to end a life permanently. And I could tell you of them, but I see the Gods have a greater plan for you. What it is, I cannot say for I do not know. Yet I do see that the fates have given you something that will more than make up for all the hardships the Gods have devised for you.”

“Is that so?” Ross replied sardonically. His ire rising, as it had want to do.

“Your lives have made you skeptical I see,” the Seer laughed, a cackling sound that set Ross on edge. “Only natural, suffering weighs heavier on the soul than comforts do. After many lives these weights can become too substantial bare and they start to turn outward, enveloping you in a mist of emotion that you cannot understand, for you do not know the source. You are alone in the universe. Drifting through the stars without an end in sight. Changing you into a hard, cynical, bitter, shell of the person you are meant to be.”

“Then who am I meant to be?” Ross demanded, painting himself as the exact copy of what the Seer described.

“Only the Gods know at this point,” the Seer laughed cruelly, seemingly taking some sort of sick pleasure in goading this broken man before him. “But I see that this man will become unburdened sooner than you may think.”

“What is that supposed to mean? How will all of this go away?” Ross commanded, his frustration with the Seer’s cryptic messages growing. The Seer barked out a laugh that caused Ross to clench his fists at his sides and physically hold himself from flying towards the blind old man.

“What else but love could erase the pains of the past?” The Seer taunted. “I see a great love for you in this life. I know it will be hard, life often is, but be patient and it will all pay off. She will heal your soul and you will meet again, and again. Your union happening just in time to save you from the brink of destruction, for every time your lives cross, she will make you new again.”

Ross was silent. The idea of something as simple as love washing away the dark cloud that always surrounded him was ludicrous. He felt so tired of it all, so done with the world, he didn’t see how any of that could change.

“Your skepticism does you no credit,” the Seer sighed, a faint smile on his face as he held out his hand flat in an indication that he wanted to see Ross’ arm. Impatiently, Ross pulled up his sleeve and shoved his arm into the Seers hand so that his inky black life mark was facing up towards the smoke-stained ceiling of the tent.

The Seer pressed a dirty forefinger to the black spot and a smile spread across his face, revealing jagged yellow teeth in blood red gums. “Close your eyes and see what I see.”

Ross stared at the Seer, his eyes narrowing before he acquiesced and closed his eyes. At first he saw nothing, just the darkness of his own mind, then slowly an image started to form. The beautiful turquoise of a calm sea gently lapping at a white sandy shore. Beyond it there was a fiery sunset, streaks of orange and red coloring the sky. He started to notice the vague feelings of joy, generosity, liveliness, determination, as the water began to shine and a faint singing could be heard just over the sound of the waves.

“What does it mean?” Ross asked, his eyes tightly closed, intent on basking in the vision as long as possible. Ross felt the Seer removed his finger and the vision vanished. Ross blinked open his eyes, looking at the old man in front of him, desperate to get the image back again.

“That is for you to find out,” the Seer shrugged, letting go of Ross’ arm and shoving it back towards him. “All I can tell you is to follow your heart. If you get a single whiff of what you just felt do not hesitate.” The Seer laughed again, his constant state of mockery wearing Ross to the bone. “Oh that will be a challenge for you, here’s to hoping she’s a more attentive soul than you! Now get out, there’s a line starting to form and your mark makes me miserable.”

Ross grumbled his dark mood returning as he threw a coin on the table in front of the Seer and exited the tent into the grey afternoon light as rain just started to fall.

* * *

 

Ross waited for five years, his constant worrying over when his suffering would end only causing the pain to grow worse. Most days he cursed the Seer, arguing that not anticipating what was to come would be better. He could get on with his life, sad though it was, without constantly looking over his shoulder in the hopes of catching a sign of the happiness he’d only ever experienced in a dream.

Arguing that it didn’t hurt to try, Ross did what the Seer told him, he followed his heart. Which lead him to leave London and head back home to Cornwall, where he hoped the matching scenery to his vision would cause something to stir in him.

It did not.

So Ross did what he could to keep the demons at bay. Most of the time that was working long hours fixing up his ancestral home, turning a blind eye to the smuggling that took place down at the beach, for it made life easier for those who were less fortunate than he, and spending his nights at the pub, drowning his devils in liquor.

As the years drew on though, the oppression he felt only worsened. His vision darkened, his soul felt more and more weighted down and he found that instead of walking across the familiar beaches of his home he would wander along the cliffs, stopping every so often and creeping up to the edge, looking down the drops and questioning his resolve. Most days as he stood, with his toes dangling over the rim, the wind battering him and whipping his curling hair into his face, and he knew that this simple end was no solution. He may very well end this life, but what of the next? Would it not be worse than this? And brought on all the sooner along with the added weight of a stolen life?

And if there was a chance, even the smallest of hopes, that the Seers vision came true, and he could feel even a shadow of the happiness he felt in that reverie, was it not better to live? Suffer through whatever hell this life may offer so that his next may be blessed with better fortune.

So he would step back, away from the precipice, to wonder home and drink until he fell in to a fitful slumber. Waking to start the whole process again.

But some days, when the agony began to grow to be too much and his heart clenched so painfully that he couldn’t breathe, his mind would betray him and his skepticism would return. He knew that Seer’s were often tricksters who chose to play with the emotions of their customers, and the old man Ross saw was nothing if not cruel, so maybe it was all some incredibly sick joke, and there was no one waiting for him, at least not in this life. On those days, Ross would stand on the cliffs for hours, his pride and pain at war with each other, and logic tried to step in and remind him that killing himself now would solve nothing.

But he was tired, oh so tired. He was alone, and without help. All he wanted was some sort of blissful blackness to take him, at least for a while.

And so Ross stood, one calm spring night as the waves slowly lapped the shore. His hard, incredibly dark eyes, looking out unseeingly over the inky sea that lead to a great vast beyond. His body was slowly creeping forward along the cliffs, as his mind began to dull of all sense, losing the hope he once had that any of this would get better.

It had been five years since his visit to the Seer. Since then he had hoped she, this mysterious woman of the sea, would come along and make everything alright for the first time in an eon. But the weight still grew, and Ross grew older, time seeming to move more quickly. He had lost his youth, and while he was still young in this life, he was old enough to have lost that natural idealism that seemed to be granted to every one as a child. Instead he felt old, his skepticism only growing, edging out the hope he once felt.

“Beautiful night,” A voice said behind him, causing him to rise out of his blackness slightly. The lyrical quality of the voice reminding Ross of something, though he couldn’t remember what. “I’ve never seen th’ wind so calm.”

Ross didn’t respond, expecting whoever it was to move on, leaving him to make this decision on his own. They did not leave however, moving forward to stand next to him on the cliff, their arm brushing his and sending a jolt through him. He looked down at whoever they were, his mouth opening to tell them to go away, to leave him be, only to be stopped dead in his tracks.

A beautiful young woman, with flaming red curls cascading wildly down her back and wide blue eyes the color of the early morning sea reflecting up at him in the pale moonlight. She smiled at him as their eyes met, her face lighting up with such generosity and life that Ross was utterly taken aback. She was entirely original and fresh, her alabaster skin seeming to glow as something about her seemed to click and Ross was sure they had met before, for she seemed to be both known and entirely unknown to him.

“They say good things come when the wind is still,” She continued, looking away from him and out towards the water. Ross only continued to stare, the apparition before him causing something to shift. His shoulders felt less slumped and an ache he didn’t know he had was disappearing from behind his eyes.

“Well whoever they are, they’re right,” Ross said eventually, his common sense kicking in and informing him that it was not normal to be staring at someone for so long without speaking. “Calm weather is always good for fishing,” he continued, pointing past her to the beach below them where the villagers were casting out their boats. “Especially when what wind there is is coming from the north.”

She smiled at him, leaning forward to get a better look, obviously not at all afraid of the deadly drop below them. Her smile grew as the voices of the fishermen floated up to them and small fires began to light along the beach as the whole of the village got to work.

“You see, tis fortunate I met you,” she laughed, staring in amazement down at the sight below them. “I wouldn’t have been able to make heads or tails of the ruckus. One moment I was serving ale down at the tavern and the next an old man was runnin’ down the street yellin’ ‘Jubilee!’ and I just up and followed everyone here. I was just about to go down when I saw you standin’ here and thought I should find out what all the fuss is about.”

“Night fishing is a common around here,” Ross nodded, finding that he needed to prop his hands on his hips with his fingers gripping into his flesh to prevent himself from touching her.

“I’ve gotten that impression,” she laughed, glancing up at him once, but otherwise seeming utterly enamored with the action on the beach below. “I haven’t been here long, but I’ve stumbled upon three little night fishing parties in the past week alone.”

“You’re new around then?” Ross was surprising himself with his constant questioning. He never inquired after people, the blackness in him never finding the need to know anything about anyone. But with her, the need was ever present.

“Aye, just moved here from up North,” She pointed vaguely in the direction, her eyes training on him and a slow smile slipping over her face. “Donno why though. I nare imagined myself goin’ too far from home, yet here I am, followin’ some silly dream.”

A funny little quake went through Ross at that, and slowly Ross, the fool, began to see the Seer’s vision in this stunning girl before him. Flaming hair like the setting sun, eyes like a calm sea, a voice full of life and light, and a general aura of joy and determination. This was it, his salvation, and he felt so relieved that a smile stretched over his lips for probably the first time in this life.

She smiled back, and he felt content.

“Dreams are always worth chasing,” Ross whispered, mostly to himself, as his smile stuck, making his cheeks ache. He didn’t care though. He still felt the demons creeping up on him, but he also felt happy and freer than ever before.

“That they are,” she agreed with a sigh before turning to him, her smile wide and bright. “I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself earlier, my name’s Demelza.”

Ross smiled back, his eyes training on the dark, complicated mark that peeked out from under her three sleeve and sighing inwardly with relief at how dense it seemed. They would meet again, in future lives, his new optimism could feel it.

“Ross,” he responded, bowing slightly and feeling the slightest of weights being lifted off him as she simply laughed, tossing her head back and letting her hair torrent down her back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THE SUMMARY!!! They'll always give clues about the AU and what's going on with Ross and Demelza before the story begins.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prologue of sorts, which will lead into several different stories, none of which will be in any particular order... At some point I'll add an appendix of sorts to explain how the world works because it's getting a little complex. However I can say that the story will follow the chronological lives of Demelza, though they will jump all over time. Only living in time's I want to write about :P


End file.
